Short Stories

Okay, so I'm going to use one quot of the day and make a short story from it till
November sixth....or ninth. Whatever. EVERY day. Starting tomorrow.....
So, anybody want to give me a quote, or shall I think of one for you?

Ahhh, first story :D
Home is Where the Story Begins
It was in the year 2076 and twenty old ladies and men sat around a little campire
hologram, dressed in skinny jeans and tank tops, what they used to wear when they were
children. "It's amazing how times have changed," Lucy Green said in her dry, aged voice.
"Downright freakin' amazin'!"
"Ohhh I know," Monica Luse said, shaking her head. Her black hair was streaked with gray
and falling down her shoulders. "Children these days....don't have a do a damn thing!
Everything is at the touch of a button--even got machines that'll drop your weght for you
wit only one touch!" She got louder with every word, angry and annoyed at today's
generation.
"You can't blame the kids for that, Monica. You do know they don't complain either,"
said Joe, his hair still thick and curly and brown, his blue eyes still twinkling with
amazement and love for the woman he had been with forever.
"Only 'cuz those contraptions complain for'em," Monica grumbled, shaking her her head
again.
Raven let out a barking laughter, still sounding like a seal when she laughed, except
now a old one. "I remember back in our day we had to work to get our weight off. Runnin'
an' jumpin'. And P. E. Boy, fat people always had to take P.E. But, hey, I'm
finally the size I wanna be!" Gleefully, she clutched the small little belly fat she had,
but that was from being old.
Lucy sighed. "Those were the days....."
They all nodded in agreement as the hologram started to flicker, signaling it was time
for them to go to bed. But before they left, they all stuck their hands over it, looked at
the sky, at each of their faces, and said--as they often did in this nightly ritual--....
"Home is where the story begins."
___Kay, so this isn't the longest story ever, and the others will be longer, but I have to
do homework, so, yeah, just bare with me. :/____

/b] If You Reach the End of Your Rope, Tie a Knot on it and Hold on.
Lucy Green frowned, scared, shivering. "Hey, Daddy," she said, taking a deep breath. Her
heart pounded, her head started to swim, and the spots of darkness were creeping over her.
"How was work?"
Her father, the one, the only, Lucas Green, from which she got her name, was sitting on
the sofa, bottle already to his lips. "Fine," he grumbled. "Go fix dinner. I'm hungry. And
hurry." His voice was slowly slipping into a drunken growl.
She took that one command, dropped her books quietly on the ground, and hurried into the
kitchen, channeling her inner peace. He wasn't that bad. Yet. It had been like this since
Mama died. He would come home, drink, and beat the hell out of her. On really bad days she
would get bruises the size of Mars. On good days, she would get nothing but a mental
abuse. She started to fix his favorite, trying to keep him in the good mood. She brushed
the tears away from her eyes, screaming inside.
She had to remain calm.
Any side of tears, her father would grab her and rough her. Tell her to 'woman' up. Even
thouh drowning hsi problems in alcohol wasn't the best way to 'woman' or 'man' up. "Mama,"
she whispered, voice cracking, turning the stove on. "I miss you." She closed her eyes and
said a protection prayer, trying to hold the emotional grief that threatened to overtake
her.
It always came at home when it was the best reminder of her mother. From the sunny
walls, to the empty picture frames that used to contain her pictures that her father could
take down. If she thought long enough, she could still see the way the pictures were--the
glob of peanut butter that was on the corner of the picture, the scratch on the picture at
the bottom, the jelly that had stained her mother's shirt that day...
"LUCY!"
The deep, angry roar was enough to get her attention. She gulped and turned toward the
door, running. "Yes, Daddy?" she asked nervously, pulling on her shirt, her skirt,
anything to control the shaking that shook the edges of her vision. She tried to focus on
her dad, but he was just another shaking.
Earthquake...
Mama used to tell her that every day. Everytime the world threatened to fall and
collapse on her head and the shakes would stop her from doing what she wanted to do, her
mother would whisper, "Earthquake," and then Lucy would remember it didn't last forever
and if she just grabbed onto something and kept a hold on to it, she would be already.
There's a part two to this but it's late, I have school, and my internet just came on! If
you want me to make the part two with another quote, be free to tell me!

>>>Agh! I forgot how busy I get....sorryz. Okay, so, new thing, one story every TWO days.
Sorry, sorry, guys! Keep the quotes coming, and I might post once a day if I start getting
the time, but, ya know, it's HIGH SCHOOL for me. (I'm a freshie! *squeal*) Sorry, sorry.
Lovely, lovely, love ya'll, the darlin' Mad♥Hatter♥Love )AKA, Mizzkatee(<<<<
Now, for the continuation of the first one...
Lucas Green pulled his shirt down and Lucy vaguely noticed that the bottom of his
stomach was sticking out. Where her 6'5, giant of a father used to be all lean muscles,
was now nothing but fat. He reminded her og a classier version of Larry the Cable Guy.
Except with white blonde hair and dark green eyes with brown flecks. He stood up,
lumbering over her, scaring her, even from across the room. She fidgeted slightly, tugging
at her shirt again. She snagged a piece of loose cloth on her bitten nails--Jimmy would
get on her about that tomorrow--and started pulling it out.
"Lucy, sweetie, why do you look so nervous?" His voice was sweet and sober. Which was
the worst. He got extremly sweet before he hit her.
Frowning, she swallowed. "I'm worried about the school play--one of the main actors
dropped out." She tried to go for sympathy, but when his face flushed red, she knew there
was no hope.
His eyes grew dark and scary, pitch black. "You think your mother worries about that?!"
he roared, raising his fist with the bottle in hand. "She's dead because you're a
filthy, rotten, whore!" He moved to hit her.
Lucy wanted to duck, but she didn't. She stood there and took it, eyes closed. She
waited for a blow that never happened. Her father was standing there, fist only inches
from her face, grinning evilly. "Scared?" he asked, his voice normal again. Drunken
moodswings were the worst.
Mama, Lucy thought, no prayed, screw earthquakes. This is a volcanoe and
tornado. I know what Eminem was talkin' about in that song 'Love the Way you Lie.' I need
to write him and tell'em this is what happens. She admired the fact that she was still
able to somewhat joke around while she was in danger. Daddy wouldn't kill her, though...
Would he?
"No sir," she lied, voice catching. For one of the star actresses, she wasn't able to
control and act like anything around her father. "May I go check the food before it burns?
I don't want you to starve tonight." She swallowed nervously, hoping he wouldn't question
it.
He was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. She paused, listening. Two
knocks, followed by one, then a three-second pause. Her father removed his hand and
laughed. "Saved by the knock," he said, backing away from her, his eyes promising things
she couldn't even fanthom.
The door opened and in flounced Mariah Neesy, one of Lucy's best friends.

A nickel ain't worth a dime anymore.
Hailey Smith was sitting on the porch overlooking her grandmother's small country town.
She was spending the weekend there with her little brother and sister. Her mother and
father were, as usual, vacationing somewhere with clear beaches and white sand, spending
millions of dollars when they could be home and spend nothing but time with their kids.
But, for them, it was all about procreating, not creating a nice house hold.
She unclenched her fist as she heard the tiny pounding of feet coming from upstairs the
farm house. Hailey had her iPod Touch cranked up as loud as possible and she was sittting
on the weathered light porch, staring ahead, thinking but not thinking, occasionally
letting loose a single lyric. She had sworn off of singing until she was happy again. And
she was never happy these days. Never happy at all.
The air was hot and humid--as was usual for southern Louisiana. A breeze came through,
but did nothing but stir the hot air around, rustling the trees and grass. Sweat had
already began to cling to Hailey's black tank top. She had even dressed down for the
weekend. Black tank top, blue jean shorts that had might as well been bikini bottms for
all they hid.
The door swung open and she turned around, wriggling her bare feet slightly to ward off
some bugs approaching. Her little sister, Jada, smiled and sat next to her, immediately
taking an ear phone out of Hailey's ear and putting it to her own. "Hailey, what song is
this?" she asked as she usually did seconds after listening to it.
"Burn it to the Ground by Nickleback," Hailey answered, not looking at her sister who
resembled their mother so much it hurt Hailey. Not that Hailey was ugly or that Jada. It
was just that Jada was the most favored child. Not that Hailey cared. Or, at least, that's
what she told herself. "Yes, Jada, I listen to them a lot. Yes, I love them. And, yes, you
can change the song." She knew Jada's routine. She actually found it a relief to have
something stable and constant in her life except for her parent's absence.
She took the earphones out. "Tell Nana I'm goin' ride the horse!" she called, jogging
across the small yard to the stables where the only horse, Old Rude, was standing, looking
as grumpy as ever. He was about ten years old, nineteen hands, and a beautiful chestnut
color. He also hated anything breathing. Except for Hailey. Riding him was the only time
she ever felt like singing. "Hey, boy," she cooed, letting him sniff her hand.
He pawed the ground, impatient to get out to run wild.
She led him out by nothing more then sheer will to keep him from running. Once outside,
she grabbed hold of his mane and swung herself up onto his back, giving him a gentle
squeeze with her legs to get him to take off. She laughed as the wind rustled through her
hair, messing it up but otherwise feeling great against the heat that clung to her and
threatened to choke the crap out of her.
When she came back to the house, Jada and Ty were arguing, her broken iPod Touch in
their hands. Ty was screaming at Jada. "You broke it! It's sissy's!" He was six
years old and believed in fairness all around. When he saw her, he burst into tears,
running into her with the broken iPod. "Jada broke it an' I wanna tell you, but Jada said
to hide it on your bed and make it look like you broke it. But that's not right!"
She wrapped her arms around him, trying not to feel to irritated or angry. Instead, she
smiled down at him innocently. "It's alright. Go get ready for bed ya;ll. Just don't touch
none of my stuff." She gave him an innocent pat on the butt.
When they were upstairs she turned to her Nana and sighed. "Why oh why does it have to
be me?" she asked. Nana stood 6'3, 170 in lithe muscles, and had a way of talking that
made you stop and listening.
"Because, sweetie, you bring all dat bac luck on ya self. Not promisin' to use the
Lawd's gift ya got 'cuz ya unhappy." Nana walked over and gave Hailey a huge hug. "Hailey
Jade, you gotta smile when life gives ya lemons. Make apple juice sweetie."
Although it was completely irrevelant, Hailey said, "Can I make orange juice instead?
Apple juice is nasty," with a wrinkle of her nose.
Nana laughed. "Honey, how much is that music contraption so I can getcha anoth'un?"
"250 dollars."
"What?" Nana gasped and staggered away, shock clearly in her eyes. "250 for something
that can make ya lose ya hearin'? I'll be got-damned! Baby girl, 'cuse mah French!" NAna
put a hand over her heart. "I'll tell ya, a nickle ain't worth a dime anymore!"